Crazygirl Falls in Love by Alexandra Wnuk Page B

can’t stay on the Lloyds job, you’ll have to find
someone else. There is a clear conflict of interest.”
    “The hell you can’t, there’s no one spare in the team to go
around.”
    Maybe that’s because you’re the most
abusive, awful boss imaginable and most people don’t last two
months working in your lousy team .
    She takes my silence as a begrudging acceptance of my fate.
The rest of the taxi ride is weird, the three of us sit in an
awkward silence, staring out our respective windows. Stalker
probably doesn’t know what to make of all this drama. When we reach
the office Sarah orders us out of the taxi and heads off to another
meeting.
    Sam and I walk into the building together, the silence heavy
between us. I’m shell shocked from the events of this afternoon and
feel like taking a long, hot bath, followed by a sleep that lasts a
hundred years. Alas, Schmermesco’s file is waiting for me on my
desk.
    I want to cry.
    “You okay, dog?” Sam asks gently, trying to place an arm
around my shoulders as we approach the lifts.
    I step aside and leave him hanging. I don’t want anyone
touching me, let alone him.
    “I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth.
    I walk faster, trying to lose Stalker, but
he just speeds up. Blast his stalkery ways. We enter a waiting
elevator and I press the 12 th floor.
    “So yo, the Commercial Manager, was he your ex or something?”
Sam ventures.
    My shoulders slump. I feel broken, and about a second away
from bursting into tears, which I never do. Dad always told us
crying was for the weak. I tell Stalker that I’ll explain later,
then literally run out of the lift as soon as it reaches our floor.
I’m reminded that sprinting in heels is not a good idea as blisters
immediately form on my toes, but it’s worth it because I find
solitude in the toilets. I force back the tears and eventually
start feeling better in the quiet sanctuary of the loo. After
regaining a bit of composure I make a plan to leave the bathroom
and race to my desk, where I’ll remain for the rest of the
day.
    But as I walk out from the bathrooms my mood turns from
depression to agitation. Stalker is prowling the hallway, looking
for me.
    “There you are! I’ve been looking for you. Can I make you a
cup of tea? Lady Grey, right?”
    He walks with me to the kitchen and we sit down at the
sterile, white tables.
    I’m annoyed and reluctant at first, but over a steaming hot
mug of brew I end up telling him the story of The Really Awful
Breakup. When I finish he says that he can’t imagine a guy acting
that way. I shrug my shoulders and tell him it’s standard. Men have
treated me and some of the most beautiful women I know (Emma, Mags
and Chloe) worse than you’d treat a lump of dog shit stuck to the
bottom of your shoe.
    When I mention Mags his eyes light up,
    “Can I throw something on you dog, see if it feels
good?”
    “Umm... no?”
    He laughs,
    “What I mean is, can I run an idea past you?”
    Oh.
    “Sure, shoot.”
    “I can take the Lloyds job so you don’t have to see your ex
again. I’ll take the calls, respond to every email, go to the
meetings, you dig? You can help me with the lease reviews and
writing the report, but that’s it. Whadya reckon?”
    “Really?” I’m suspicious. What’s in it for him?
    “Sure,” he replies, “a friend in need and all that, plus it’s
not like I have a huge amount on my plate. But there’s a
catch.”
    “If you’re thinking sexual blackmail, talk to the hand,” I
joke, lifting my palm and smiling. It’s my first genuine smile of
the day. It feels good.
    “C’mon, how desperate do you think I am?”
    Pretty desperate .
    “It’s about your friend Mags. We hung out on Saturday and I
thought it we had fun, but she hasn’t returned my messages. Do you
know what’s up?”
    Your teeth.
    “I, uh, don’t remember her saying anything...”
    “Help me with her and I’ll do the Lloyds job myself, no
questions asked.”
    My immediate reaction